


Snow Day

by hellzoneact1



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Extremely Underage, F/M, Girl is 6, Oral Sex, POV Male Character, POV Second Person, Referenced Toddlercon, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellzoneact1/pseuds/hellzoneact1
Summary: Walking over to the door, you unlock the latches and the doorknob and open it... and your heart nearly rushes out of your throat.It's a little girl in big round glasses, with brown hair going past her shoulders. She can't be older than six or seven, based on the height, and she's fashionably dressed. Short pink skirt, black leggings, an open pink jacket over a black shirt with a Pikachu on it, cute pink beanie, white sneakers with the little glowing lights.She's also shivering in the cold, hugging herself to keep warm, her breaths coming out in clouds. Her entire body is covered in a mountain of snow, which hugs every inch of her clothes. If she had been out there a moment longer, she would have been buried, maybe even died.But all you can think are two thoughts: "holy fuck, she's the prettiest kid I've ever seen" and "holy fuck, I cannot let her into my house."
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> This story has **consensual underage sex between a transgender six year old girl and an adult man** with **references to sex between an adult man and a toddler.** If that's not your thing, why in God's name did you even click? Go somewhere else
> 
> Also this goes without saying but **this is purely a fantasy. Real children cannot consent.**

You stare out your front window at the thick, heavy snow rushing past it. It was nothing less than an outright blizzard, and it'd come from seemingly out of nowhere - you imagined that, in a few minutes, it'd be covering your entire door.

You sigh. So much for your plans. Not you had that many - you were just going to meet a few friends and get wasted. Now you supposed you were just going to get wasted at home and then jerk off to your collection of kiddie porn.

Jesus, when you put it like that, your life sounded terrible. Well, it was, really. Oh, sure, you looked alright, you had friends, people liked you, but at the end of the day, you were a fat, depressed, alcoholic pedophile. The best thing you could say was that at least you'd never molested anyone.

You turn around from the window, check the locks on your front door, and make your way towards your kitchen.

You don't even get halfway to the door before the doorbell rings, nearly making you jump right out of your skin. What the _fuck?_ Who would be at your door in this fucking weather?

You wonder if you should even answer. Some extremely paranoid part of your mind thinks it's someone who will rob you at gunpoint, or worse, the federal government finally knocking at your doorstep. You wonder if you should fetch your gun.

Apparently you paused too long, because instead of ringing the doorbell again, an insistent but very light knock rings out and lightly rattles the door. It sounds hard enough to be desperate, but at the same time, too light to be the kind of people you'd imagine would carry weapons. A woman, maybe? Maybe she got caught by this sudden blizzard and had to seek shelter?

You don't call out, just in case, but the person on the other end only rings the doorbell again.

You walk swiftly over to the door and place your eye against the peephole, but there's nothing at all. You rush over to the window, while whoever is behind your door keeps knocking frantically, but the window doesn't let you see anyone. You don't see any strange cars, though, just your neighbor's cars.

You curse. You have no choice. If it's a woman caught out in that storm, you can't just leave her there.

Walking over to the door, you unlock the latches and the doorknob and open it.

And your heart nearly rushes out of your throat.

It's a little girl in big round glasses, with brown hair going past her shoulders. She can't be older than six or seven, based on the height, and she's fashionably dressed. Short pink skirt, black leggings, an open pink jacket over a black shirt with a Pikachu on it, cute pink beanie, white sneakers with the little glowing lights.

She's also shivering in the cold, hugging herself to keep warm, her breaths coming out in clouds. Her entire body is covered in a mountain of snow, which hugs every inch of her clothes. If she had been out there a moment longer, she would have been buried, maybe even died.

But all you can think are two thoughts: "holy fuck, she's the prettiest kid I've ever seen" and "holy fuck, I cannot let her into my house."

"Uhhhhhhhh..." you say, because actual words have left you.

"I-I-I got l-l-lost," she stammers, staring straight up at you with wet, tear-filled eyes. Your mind, even now, focuses on the movement of her little pink lips (is that lip gloss?), and the gap in her teeth. "P-please, l-let me i-in! I-I'll do a-anything!"

You feel your dick hardening. You want to pinch yourself, or maybe punch yourself. This has to be a dream, right? I mean, what the fuck, she literally said she'd do _anything._ It's better than any fantasy you could have come up with.

But no, you think quickly. No. You can't. You promised you never would, that you'd never, ever, ever cross that line. She's just a kid. She's not even old enough to know what sex is. It'd be bad enough if she squealed and got you in prison. But even if you got away with it, you'd never be able to live with the guilt.

Still, though, you have to let her in. You can't look at that tear-filled face and say no, and you definitely can't leave out in the cold to freeze to death.

"Uh, sure," you say awkwardly, stepping out of the way of the door. "Come on..."

Without waiting for you to finish, she rushes right past you, her shoes glowing bright pink every time she takes a step. Snow falls off her body, getting all over your floor. She doesn't get far into your house before she stops, hugs herself, and rubs at her arms, still shivering like a leaf. Snow continues to fall off her.

"Kid, you need to get out of those clothes," you say to her, unable to believe the words that just came out of your mouth. "Before you get sick or something."

"O-OK," she says, and then, apparently taking your words to heart, she throws her jacket off her like it's caught on fire, and then starts to lift her shirt over her head. Before you can say a word to stop her, it's already almost off, and you can see the entirety of her bare back. If you were in front of her, you'd be able to see her nipples.

"Not in here, not in here! Christ!" you shout, feeling your face grow red as you rush over to her and pull her shirt back down for her. Jesus, does this kid have any modesty? "There's a bathroom in the hallway, over there." You point to it. "It's the first door on the right, you can't miss it. Take 'em off in there. And you better warm up too. You, uh, know how to use a shower?"

"Y-yes," she says.

"OK, well, use my shower. Make sure it's warm, and call out for me when you're done. There's a closet with towels by the shower, feel free to take one. Got it?"

She nods in response, and you watch as she walks off into the hallway. You follow her for a moment, making sure she doesn't get lost. When she enters the bathroom, you wait a few minutes until you hear the sound of water running (trying not to completely lose your mind at the fact that you're a few inches away from a naked kid), and then go to get things ready for her when she's done.

The first thing you fetch is a shirt. It's a novelty joke shirt proclaiming "WOMEN FEAR ME, FISH WANT ME" that's big enough that she'll definitely be drowning in it, which is good, because maybe that'll keep your mind in control. The second thing you do is get a glass of warm water for her, and even that can't be innocent in your current state, because you get the thought that it'd be so easy to spike it with a little alcohol and do whatever you want with her...

You hate yourself sometimes. You really, really do.

Once you've got the shirt and the water, you collapse onto your living room couch, groan, and bury your face in your hands. _Fuck_ , you think. _Fuck._ This is like a temptation straight out of the goddamn Bible. What the fuck are the odds that a six-year old girl ends up in a pedophile's home, in the middle of a blizzard, without some kind of fucking divine intervention?

You wait on the couch for several long, agonizing minutes, trying to keep yourself calm. You absolutely cannot take advantage of this. You're just going to turn on some shitty TV show for kids, and you're going to watch it with her, and you're going to wait out the blizzard until you can get her back to her parents. That's it. That's it.

You don't feel any calmer.

You hear, from inside the bathroom, the faucets being turned and the shower water turning off. You wait another few minutes, assuming she needs time to dry herself and put on a towel before she calls out to you and you can carefully hand her the shirt. But she doesn't call out to you, and for a moment, worry sets in. Maybe you should check on her, you think.

Before you can get off the couch, you hear the bathroom door open, and you freeze. A series of soft, quiet footsteps echoes down the tiled floor of your hallway, and you reflexively swallow. Sure enough, around the corner and right into your living room comes the little girl of your dreams/nightmares, a large blue towel wrapped around her waist, her glasses still on, her long brown hair and every exposed part of her body still soaking wet. She's leaving a trail of water behind her.

You're completely speechless, and you open and close your mouth trying to say something. She only steps closer and closer to you, until she's standing only a foot or two away from you. Her big blue eyes stare up into yours, her expression completely unreadable. You could reach out and touch her, and you have to fight every urge screaming at yourself to do just that.

Once again, you open your mouth to try to speak, to try to take control of the situation. But the words die in your throat when she releases the arm holding up the towel, and like in a movie, the entire thing falls around her legs and crumples to a heap on the floor.

Your eyes feel like they're going to burst out of your skull. They take her entire body all in at once, in detail that all your porn could never, ever replicate. The nape of her neck leading down to her thin, bony shoulders. Her bare, almost fragile-looking arms, practically twigs next to yours. Her completely flat chest, with its two tiny, pointed nipples. The slight curve of her stomach from where she was an infant, leading down to her thigh bones, leading your eye directly to her small, hard cock.

Your brain does a double-take.

"You're a...?" you start to say.

"No. I'm a girl," the girl says, looking away from you and crossing an arm over her stomach, and it's clear she means it to be matter of fact but it comes across with an air of shyness and anxiety. 

"R-right, yeah, of course," you respond, feeling like an idiot. "Sorry."

She turns her gaze back to you, and you try desperately to keep your eyes locked on hers and not lower down. It's unimaginably difficult, especially when she takes another step forward towards you, further closing the distance between you. Your brain once again screams for you to do horrible, horrible things.

"Why are you... _what_ are... what are you...?" you say, completely frozen to the spot, unable to either recoil from her, run away, or make contact with her.

She takes another step closer, and another, and another, all the while staring at you with an unreadable expression. Then, once she's finally close enough that she's standing right between your legs, she raises a small hand and places it on top of your lower thigh. If there already hadn't been a rock-hard tent in your pants, there definitely is now.

"Do you want me to touch it?" she says. And then, apparently thinking that needs clarification, she adds, "Your penis."

"I... I can't," chokes out the last remaining remnants of your sanity. "I... you're... I don't even know your _name._ "

That excuse sounds ridiculous even to your own ears, but she replies, quite simply, "I'm Lucy."

"A... Arnold."

"Do you want me to touch your penis now?"

You let out a laugh. Everything about this is insane. You've hit the fucking jackpot and all you want to do is throw the whole damn thing down the river.

"I... yeah, I _want_ you to..." you start to say, intending to end that sentence with a 'but,' but she merely nods, reaches out, and unbuttons your jeans. Reaching around your raging hard-on, her tiny fingers unintentionally sliding against it, she takes the zipper and pulls it over your cock until it's all the way down. With a frankly terrifying level of expertise, you watch as she reaches into the fly, tugs your still-covered cock out, and slips her little hand into the fly of your boxers.

Even though you know it's coming, the electric tingle as her fingers touch your dick for the first time is indescribable. It's nothing like touching yourself, or the touch of any other woman - her fingers are so damn small that she can't even come close to wrapping them around your length, and that should not be as hot as it is, it really shouldn't.

You bite back a groan, because you still feel you have to stop her, that you can't let yourself enjoy this. She doesn't notice, and just slips your cock out of your boxers, so that it's standing straight up, like a tower. She's so short that your cock is at eye level with her, and her head looks so small that if you were to grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat, you doubt it'd fit in her mouth.

She stares at it with wide eyes, like she's never seen anything like it before, and you wonder if she has.

"It's big," she says, and your cock throbs in her fingers.

"S-stroke it," you say quietly, like you've been possessed. "Move... move your hand up and down."

Following your instructions without question (Jesus, you could tell her to do anything and she would, wouldn't she), she begins to slowly slide her hand up and down the length of your cock. Her touch is as gentle as a feather, but every movement of her warm, wet little fingers, every time your foreskin slides over the head of your cock, makes it so that you have to try not to buck your hips into her hand.

A groan escapes your lips, and she stops, startled.

"Did that hurt?"

"No, no," you say quickly, and you reach out with shaking hands to pet her hair reassuringly. "That means I feel good. You're doing great."

She smiles slightly, and continues sliding her hand up and down your shaft. You don't even hold back your breathy groans and grunts anymore, and you continue absently petting her hair. Your cock begins to twitch against her fingers. That all just seems to encourage her, because she stares in wonderment at your hard, twitching cock and increases the pace at which she strokes it.

You can feel yourself getting close, and the closer you get, the less you start petting her hair, and the more you start holding her by the back of the head. Slowly, almost instinctively, you begin to raise yourself up, pulling her face closer and closer to your dick, until, finally, she has to let go, and she turns her cheek away to keep it from hitting her in the nose. Instead, it lays against her cheek, against her glasses, and a drop of precum sticks to her forehead.

She looks a little uncomfortable, but she's breathing heavily now, her cute little pants letting out warm breath on the skin of your cock. You wonder if she's as turned on as you are.

"Lick it," you say. "Please."

Without a moment's hesitation, she scoots back an inch and stands up to give herself room, then takes your dick back in both hands. Carefully, she brings it back up to her face, closes her eyes, and darts her tongue out. The tiny little pink nub touches your cock for just a moment, but it's enough to make you shudder. 

Once again, you pet her hair. "Good girl."

You calling her a girl makes her already red cheeks grow even redder, and this time, when her tongue darts out, she slides it up the length of your shaft. Still holding your twitching cock in her hands, she licks it over and over, all the way down to the base, rolling her tongue along the sides and up over the head. Precum from your slit sticks to her tongue, making a trail leading to her mouth, and you groan as she licks her lips and swallows it.

You don't even have to tell her what to do next. With no hesitation, she kisses the head of your cock, then opens her mouth wide and takes it in. Her mouth is so tiny that your cockhead slides across her lips before the whole thing enters her mouth with a wet pop. The tightness of her little mouth, the warmth, is beyond compare, but it's nothing compared to when she adjusts herself and lets it slide deeper into her mouth, over her tongue.

You've sat up on the couch, and now you're at the perfect angle where you could grab her by the back of the head and thrust. It takes all your willpower not to do that, to instead gently pet her hair and slowly, centimetre by centimetre, let your cock slide further and further into her mouth and towards her throat. You wonder, not for the first time, where she got all this experience - she hasn't gagged, and she's been careful with her teeth. Is this the first cock she's sucked? It can't be.

She's got your cock halfway down her throat when you have to stop or else she'll choke. She could probably take more, but you don't want to risk it, so you pet her again and tell her, unsure where on Earth your confidence is coming from, "That's my girl. Now bob back and forth."

She makes an approving _mmm_ sound, the vibrations of which are like a shot of adrenaline straight to your brain, and starts to pull her head back, your cock sliding out of her mouth. Just as her lips get to the head, she stops, pauses for just _one_ single, eternally long second, and then slides her head forward again. You watch in awe as it disappears into her tiny mouth, almost all the way to the base, your whole body shuddering in the most pleasurable kind of agony with every inch.

Some part of you wonders, once again, how someone so small can take on so much cock without breaking a sweat.

That part of you is silenced when she starts to really bob on your cock, letting the instinctive motion of your hips and the confusingly confident movements of her mouth and head combine into a steady, increasingly faster rhythm. Just the feeling of your huge, hard cock in the tiny little cavern of her mouth is a gift greater than gold, but as she gets faster and faster, your base instincts get more and more vicious, more animal, and you find yourself no longer able to stop yourself from thrusting. She only takes it like a pro, breathing steadily through her nose, matching every jab of your cock into her mouth with an equal and opposite counterthrust that sends her glasses bouncing on the bridge of her nose.

Like a pig, you start to snort and huff, holding onto her hair for leverage as you fuck her mouth harder and harder, no longer caring if she's even comfortable, no longer caring how much longer you can last before you drown her in your come. It only seems to turn her on _more_ \- rather than complain, she only accepts your increasing ferocity with the continued bobbing of her head on your cock, and you can see her own cock, hard as a rock, twitching with every thrust.

Without a single second of warning, your own voice growls a command,  _ "Suck." _

She stops, pauses, and then starts to swallow on you, and you're not sure if it's her instant obedience or the indescribable feeling of being blown by a six-year old that causes you to come on the spot. She doesn't even seem surprised - as you feel your rock-hard cock twitch and bounce against the roof of her tiny mouth, ropes of cum spilling out of the sides and down her chin, she only keeps swallowing, letting your come pour across her tongue and down her throat. It's  _ you _ that pulls your cock out of her mouth, jerking it furiously as thick streams of come burst out of your cock and cover her hair, her glasses, her nose, her face, her chest, until it's all buried under a sea of viscous white fluid.

Breathing harder than you've ever breathed in your entire life, you stare at the naked six-year old girl in front of you, face covered in white streaks.

"Let me see it," you say softly.

As obediently as ever, she opens her mouth, and you see the cum filling her mouth, covering her tongue.

"Swallow," you say.

She closes her mouth and swallows, and you watch her throat extend as your come disappears down her throat. The moment it does, you start to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, leaning back and covering your face with one giant, hairy hand.

When you manage to stop laughing long enough, she tilts her head at you, frowning. You notice that she's touching the come on her face with her fingers and licking it off, which almost makes your erection come back instantly.

"Did I... do it wrong?" she asks, frowning.

"Oh, Christ, no!" you say immediately. "No, no, Lucy, that was the most incredible thing I've  _ ever _ felt. It's just... good Lord, you're... you’re a miracle. I mean, how many times have you had sex?"

She seems to think this over.

"I dunno. Me and Daddy do it lots of times."

The casualness with which she says she sucks off her 'Daddy' is almost enough to drive you insane. Lucky bastard!

"You're six, right?" you say, as casually as you can. She nods. "How many years have you been doing this?"

She counts on her sticky, cum-soaked fingers before holding up four of them towards you. "Four."

Since she was _ two years old _ , you think. Holy shit. Holy _ shit. _ He was practically having her suck cock out of the womb.

You swallow as you dare yourself to ask the only possible next question.

"Has your Daddy ever..." You swallow again. Once again, your throat feels completely dry. "Has Daddy ever fucked you?"

She merely nods. It might as well be a shrug. "'Course. We fuck every day."

Instantly, the image slams into your mind of a thirty or forty year old man, towering over this tiny girl, hands on her thighs as he plows her from behind. Even though you came less than a minute ago, your dick hardens again.

“You’re still hard,” you manage to observe as casually as possible, staring at her still ramrod dick, hard as concrete. “You didn’t come? You know, have an orgasm?”

“Or... gasm?” she asks curiously, and Christ, how can she be so innocent when she just told you her daddy fucks her daily? “Oh. The happy feeling.” She shakes her head. “No, I haven’t had mine yet.”

“You want to? I can make you feel good,” you offer, carefully, gently, even though you don’t think she’d be scared of anything at this point. “ _ Really  _ good.”

A smile comes across her face which turns into a huge, still come-soaked grin, the most excited you’ve seen her this whole day. Daddy must not make her come a lot, you realize. You’ll have to make up for that.

“Go clean up,” you tell her, in the tone you’d tell any other kid to, “and then meet me in my bedroom. It’s past the bathroom.”

She nods, picks up the towel off the floor, and scurries away down the hall. You watch her tiny, slightly plump little ass as she rushes around the corner, and you have the thought that you’re about to be fucking that ass, and you laugh again, deliriously. This is entirely like a dream - you aren’t a praying man, but some god out there definitely has your back.

Not wanting to keep the girl waiting too long, you wait for the sound of running sink water to fade, take a minute, then take off your pants, shirt, and boxers so that you’re fully nude. You start walking down the hall, feeling your cock rising eagerly as you walk down towards your bedroom - you think of the fact that you’re about to live a dream you’ve dreamt almost your entire life, that you’re about to actually, honest-to-god fuck a willing six-year old, and you’re so happy you wish you could high-five yourself. It almost makes you want to fucking whistle.

When you enter your room, she’s waiting there for you. She looks, if it wasn’t for that the both of you are naked as jaybirds, not like a beautiful woman but like an innocent little girl. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare hands on her bare knees, the little erection sticking up between her closed-together legs just as eager as yours. If that wasn’t enough to show how excited she is, the happy, slightly bashful smile and the way she bounces up and down just slightly say it all.

Without another word, you walk over to your bed, watching as she stares up and up and up into your eyes, and then you bend down, cup her tiny chin in one of your massive hands, and tilt her head to capture her lips in yours. She freezes at the contact of your lips, and even more than when your dick was in her mouth, you’re struck by just how  _ small  _ her mouth is compared to all of you. Her whole body is small, and fragile, and pure, every inch of her, and you can’t get enough of it.

But, if her body is innocent, her mind isn’t, and that becomes even more obvious when she raises herself up, wraps her little arms around your neck, and kisses you  _ back.  _ It’s not a child’s idea of a kiss, a little, barely second long peck. It’s the kiss of someone who has been kissed by many, many people much older than her - you feel her roughly smash her lips against yours, pull your head closer, and poke at your lips with her tongue, trying to force an entry. You chuckle softly to yourself and oblige, and she shoves her little tongue into your mouth, slithering it over yours. You kiss back, sliding her fingers through her hair, pulling her closer and closer to you until your beard scratches her chin and her glasses are knocked askew. You roll your tongue against hers until she starts to pant like a dog in heat.

You know what she really wants, though, and you don’t want to make her wait a second longer. You stop kissing her mouth, leaving a little love bite on her lower lip that makes her shiver and then planting a quick kiss on her ear which makes her giggle instead. Then you begin to trail your mouth down the round baby fat curve of her face, down her neck (causing her to giggle again, which is so fucking adorable you don’t want to stop), down her chest. You plant kisses on her perfectly flat breasts, eternally grateful you get to enjoy them a decade before she starts hormones and grows them out, and her giggling turns into a breathy shudder. Then you go lower, and lower still, down her ribs, down her slightly round stomach, until finally, you’re between her legs.

You hear her take a quick, sharp intake of breath, and you pause for just a second to tease her before taking her tiny cock into your mouth. It’s so small, far smaller than even your thumb, that it disappears entirely... but you try to make it up for it with enthusiasm, rolling your tongue all over it, around the head, under the cute, perfectly smooth little orbs of her prepubescent ballsack. You feel her cock twitch and jump in your mouth with every movement of your tongue, and she starts panting even harder and squeezing your hair in her hands. You glance up into her eyes and see her flushed, blushing face, her thick, shuddering breaths, and pull your mouth free to speak.

“You like this? You’re gonna have your happy feeling, right?”

“Y-yes, yes...” she half-stammers, half-moans.

“You’re gonna come just from this, right, Lucy? You don’t want me to stop?”

She shakes her head rapidly. “No, no, don’t! Please... please don’t stop.”

But making her come from this isn’t your goal, so as much as you want nothing more than to suck her dry, you pull your mouth away from her cock. She lets out a high-pitched, disappointed whine, so you don’t hesitate - you roughly shove her back onto the bed, causing her to let out a yelp of surprise as she falls back against the covers, then dive between her asscheeks and snake your tongue into her entrance.

She lets out a strained  _ nnngh  _ sound, her hands flailing across the bedsheets at the sensation of your tongue inside her, and even though you’ve never rimmed anyone before, you don’t let up. You slither your tongue as deep as it will go, tasting every inch, and you realize belatedly that she’s surprisingly clean down there - which means she must keep herself clean for Daddy, or even better, she cleaned it earlier just for  _ you.  _ That’s far hotter than it has any right to be.

You look up at her face and see her biting her lips, her cock no longer twitching but as still and solid as a flagpole, and know she’s incredibly close. But you want her to come from being railed by your cock, and you’re not going to let anything stop you from doing that now.

You take your tongue out of her entrance for a moment, and she lets out another whine, her hips and thighs twitching and spasming as if she’s trying to hump the air. You walk around the corner of your bed towards the wooden shelf nearby and take out two things from the top drawer - a condom and lube.

You don’t need the condom, you realize. You’ve been tested, and even if she _had_ been born a girl, there’s less than zero chance of her getting pregnant at this age. You put it back and take the lube to the panting, sweaty, lust-filled six-year old currently laying eagerly on your bed. You’re going to need every last drop, so you open the container and lather the lube judiciously across your cock and your index finger.

“Get ready,” you say, hooking your finger against her entrance and feeling as it effortlessly slides in. Even with the lubricant, even with how many times her Daddy must have stretched this hole open already, it manages to be both incredibly easy and  _ incredibly  _ tight. She’s making no effort to resist the intrusion (from the way her breath is coming out in short, rapid bursts, she’s more doing the opposite), but she’s so small that your finger barely fits, and your finger’s nowhere near the size of your cock.

But if Daddy can fuck her already, so can you. You start to slide your finger in and out, in and out, getting her stretched open, getting her ready for you. The more you push your finger into her, the easier it gets, as if her body’s adjusting to what’s about to happen to it.

“When’s the first time Daddy fucked you?” you ask, as much to turn you both on as out of your own curiosity.

“T... third... third... _mmm_... birth... birthday,” she groans, and you don’t stop yourself from groaning in return. God.  _ Three years old  _ and she was already taking cock. She didn’t even know how to read. She couldn’t even tie her own shoes, and Daddy was fucking her.

You can’t wait a second longer. You’ve waited over thirty years for this day and that you’ve managed to get this far without something going wrong is a miracle. You pull your finger out and she keens at the loss, but you almost instantly press the head of your cock against her entrance instead.

“Ready?” you ask, even though you know her answer. Teasing her is as fun for her as it is for you, after all.

She nods vigorously.

“Ready for what? What is it you want?”

“P-please, please...” she starts to say, clearly unable to find words. “I want... I want your cock...”

Hearing a six-year old say that is beyond incredible, and you breathe in deeply before commanding, “What do you want? Louder.”

“Fuck me!” she shouts. _“Fuck me!”_

“That’s my girl,” you say, then you grab her small, fragile thighs and  _ shove,  _ practically a slam. Your cock buries itself five inches deep, all at once, before stopping, Lucy's own cock bouncing from the impact. She reflexively lets out a shocked, surprised cry, her whole body arching and squirming, and you lean down and kiss her again until her body adjusts to the intruder and she calms.

"You alright?" you whisper into her ear, panting almost as hard as she is. How you haven’t blown your load again is beyond you. She looks just as close - her face looks more flushed than ever, her forehead clammy, her hair slick with sweat.

She nods again. "It's... it's big."

"Bigger than Daddy's, huh?" you ask. Another nod. "Does it hurt?"

She gives a little shake of her head. "No. It's... _nnn_... it's good. Feels good."

“You like being filled up, don’t you?” you say, and you rest your hand below her stomach. You can feel the outline of your cock inside her, just barely. “Feeling my big cock inside you?”

Another fervent nod.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” you say with a chuckle, kissing her ear, then giving it another little bite. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Just as you predicted, the compliments push her further. You don’t even have to move and she moans, loudly, unabashedly.

“I’m going to move now,” you tell her. “Don’t stop moaning for me, sweetheart.”

You can’t go any further into her - five inches is all you're sure her tiny body can take - so you pull out instead. As you do, she shudders and - sure enough - moans, a loud, breathy sound, high-pitched from youth, so unquestionably a child’s that if it wasn’t for the blizzard you’d be worried the neighbors will overhear and think the worst.

Wrapping your arms around her, and waiting for her to wrap her much smaller arms around you in return, you lean over her until your whole body is completely shadowing hers. Then you start to  _ thrust -  _ slowly at first, loving the breathy pants and groans it gets out of her every time your cock enters her, but increasingly faster and faster and faster. It’s not long before you have a death grip on her thighs and you’re pounding away into her agonizingly, breathtakingly tight entrance. Every thrust causes her cock to bounce and twitch, her mouth to let out a loud, gasping moan, her body to arc towards you as she both tries to hump your stomach and to push back just as fiercely.

“Fuck, fuck, Jesus, holy shit,” you say, a stacatto of meaningless curses. The building pleasure in your cock, the blood rushing between your legs with every single thrust, makes you feel like you’re going to explode, and if you did, you’d die the happiest man alive.

“Harder!” she shouts suddenly. “Harder!”

_ Harder?!  _ How?!  You’re fucking her as hard as you possibly can!

“I... I... I can’t, baby, I can’t, I’ll hurt you,” you stammer out.

_ “Harder!” _

You wrap your arms tightly around her and pull her as close to your body as physics allows, feeling her soft, bare, pale skin against your hairy chest and stomach... and you start to  _ fuck her,  _ like a feral animal. You can’t possibly go any faster, and you realize that your cock is going even deeper, past five inches, past the point it should possibly be able to go without tearing her in half. You can’t speak. You can’t even breathe. That you’re doing this, that she  _ wants  _ this, is too much for your brain to handle.

“I’m going...” you barely manage to say, but then the words die in your dry, hollow throat.

“Come in me!” she shouts, and that’s it, that’s all you can take. You squeeze her thighs so tightly that you’d be arrested just for the marks you'll leave on them, give her one final shove, and then feel your eyes roll back into your head as every last drop of come left in you explodes from out of your cock and into her eager, willing body.

The very moment you come in her, before your orgasm even comes a stop, she lets out a high-pitched squeal like a tea kettle and, if that wasn’t an obvious enough sign of her coming, starts to spasm. Her thighs twitch and shudder, her legs raise into the air, her cock twitches over and over as she continues humping your stomach like a dog in heat.

And then, slowly, eventually, she comes to a stop. Your cock, sensitive and aching, comes out of her, and you can see rivers of come leaking down from her gaping, well-used entrance and between her legs. You nearly collapse on top of her from sheer exhaustion, but seeing as you weigh at least six times what she does, you’re careful to roll over before you crush her.

You breathe in slowly, deeply, turning your head to look at her. The sight is beyond incredible - the flushed, happy, blushing, post-orgasm face of a girl barely in the first grade. She’s so small she barely reaches your knee, she’s almost entirely dwarfed just by the pillows on your bed, and you just fucked her, and it was the best goddamn experience of your whole fucking life.

She looks over to you and grins, her huge gaptooth smile, and you grin back. Neither of you need to say anything - you don’t need to confirm it was as good for her as it was for you.

She does say something though, and it’s the last thing you’re expecting and the first thing you’re hoping for.

“Again!”

* * *

By the time the blizzard stops and the snow melts, you’ve fucked her six times. You do it on your lap, then doggy-style, then over the side of the bathtub, then against a window, and then on your couch. She never seems to get enough - she never seems to be too sensitive or in too much pain, and because of that, you can’t bring yourself to complain about your sensitive, well-used cock pounding her over and over. Whenever you feel your erection flagging, she blows you with such expertise that your blood flows again twice as fast, and then you’re ready for another round.

Of course, all good things have to end. Eventually, when the only thing left of the blizzard is a few inches of snow from the previous day, there’s a call from the jacket she hasn’t worn for a single minute since she took it off with the rest of her clothes. She goes to the bathroom where her clothes still are and answers her cutesy Minnie Mouse cellphone with a completely casual “Hi, Daddy!”, and then, after a moment of talking from the other line, rushes into the living room and hands it to you.

Your heart rises to your throat. Sure, Daddy had done the same things to her you’d just done, but who knows if he would be as happy to find out another man had been fucking his daughter? The girl has her own cellphone - Daddy could be loaded. He could be mafia, for all you know, or in some kind of pedophile syndicate that doesn’t look kindly on outsiders.

“Hello?” you say, dreading what you’ll hear next.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” says a voice you don’t expect. It’s a much older man’s voice - it sounds like he’s in his sixties or seventies - but it has the air of a distinguished, respectable gentleman. He might even be British.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?” you respond instantly, too instantly, the equivalent of raising your hands to stop the blow. “I... of course I...”

“Don’t lie,” the other voice snaps. “At least, if you’re going to fuck my daughter, have the decency of being  _ honest _ about it.”

You look at the completely naked six-year old standing in front of you, watching you curiously as you talk to her ‘Daddy.’

“Yeah, I did,” you say.

“Did she like it?” the voice asks. “Or did you force yourself on her? Drug her, perhaps?”

“She loved it,” you answer, feeling suddenly far calmer, as if you’re accepting the challenge ‘Daddy’ is putting in front of you. “I’d never force myself on anyone.”

“Good. Then I will pick her up from your location posthaste, and we will return next week.”

You swallow. “N-next...?”

“If my daughter likes you, then it’s your duty to please her. I’ll pay you for your services, if you have objections, but... I don’t imagine you do.”

_ Holy shit, _ you think.  _ He’s prostituting me to a six-year old girl. _

“No objections,” you say.

“Good,” he says, and then pauses. “One more question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you love her?”

Lucy seems to overhear the question, because she looks surprised, and then shifts forward as if to better hear your response.

“More than I’ve loved any other woman,” you say.

“Just what I like to hear,” says ‘Daddy,’ and then he hangs up.

The moment the line goes dead, you almost collapse backwards onto your couch. Before you can, Lucy wraps her arms around your bare leg, pulling you into the closest thing she can manage to a hug.

“Am I your girlfriend?” she says, excited and eager.

You grin at her.

“You bet, sweetheart,” you say, before leaning down and pulling her into another kiss.


End file.
